


The Wild West AU nobody asked for

by SanITYLoST2001



Category: Twosetviolin, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: AU - Wild West, Alternate Universe, Guns, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:14:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25983427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SanITYLoST2001/pseuds/SanITYLoST2001
Summary: The Wild West is a rough place but with Deputy Sheriff Brett Yang around, Wester is safe.Until a certain Eddy Chen decides to change that.
Relationships: Eddy Chen & Brett Yang, Eddy Chen/Brett Yang
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	1. It Starts with a Bang

**Author's Note:**

> I have rusted over the years of writing. Please don't kill me.

Eddy gently pulled the reins at his horse, letting out a low “whoa” as the horse slowed into a stop. He pushed up the brim of his hat to take in the sight. A cluster of sharp edges where everything had been curved and round; two dozen low buildings huddle amidst a broad valley between mountains; Wester.

While it was a small town, it is famous for its growing economy; travellers stopping by to rest, spending cash and investing in the little town while wandering merchants settled down for a good time to trade their illusive goods with the locals. Usually, he would walk down and scoure the town, but at the sight of the lights that flickered on for the night, he decided against it. Eddy took out his watch, the stars glinting off the protective lens. The little hand pointed at six.

“Damn,” he muttered under his breath.

Far too early and late for him to do anything. With a sigh, he dismounted and trudged to the stubborn pack mule that had been glaring at him for the entire journey. His horse nickered, trotting to its rider and gently butted its head against Eddy's arm.

“We're waiting for now, Aristides,” he petted the horse.

Aristides snorted, swishing her tail from side to side as she pawed the ground, kicking up a small cloud of dust. Eddy chuckled. He unsaddled Aristides and removed the bridle. No doubt she was tired of carrying him around for days and was ready to sleep. Gently kicking the dust around with his boot, Eddy lied down on the ground, brought his hat over his eyes, and fell asleep.

“A little bit to the left! A bit more to the right! Perfect!”

The beam swayed as the men pulled the beam up with heavy ropes. Brett beamed as it steadied into the place. Just last week, there was nothing but four pegs and some ropes. Now the foundation had been set up, the new inn will soon be built in no time. 

“Thanks for your help,” one of the workers grinned as he wiped his brow.  
“No problem, Emory. When do you think the inn would be ready?”  
“It will not be next week if that is what you're thinking. There is still a lot of work to do,”  
“And I will leave you to it. Again, thanks for building it,”  
“It's our job, Deputy Yang. Our job,” Emory laughed before returning to his work.

Brett smiled, feeling a bit chirpier. It felt like yesterday that Wester was just a small sleepy town where everyone seemed to know everyone. Now, the streets were bustling with folks from all over the place, yet there was still some of the wildland that he has grown to love. The sun was shining down brightly, not too hot that it was scorching but enough to make him feel nice and warm. Brett continued his usual patrol route as he made towards a familiar shop. The bell on the door jingled softly when he pushed the door.

Violins were hanging all over the place along with a large cello, taking up most of the space on the floor. Most of them were complete, polished and ready to be played. At the back, he could make out a figure hunched over a table, tools scattered all over the table, surrounded by more violins.

“Olaf?” he called as he took off his hat.  
“A moment,” a faint voice called out from behind.

There was movement, the soft plucking of strings and the closing of the case. Olaf emerged from the back with a dark brown casing in hand.

“Rehaired your bow and replaced the strings. It should sound better now,” the luthier handed him the case.  
“Thanks, Olaf. For a moment I thought I had to buy a new one,”  
“The strings aren't so bad, but next time do be careful; gut does not last very long.”  
“It might be also all that practising I do,”  
“Still find time to practice while patrolling Wester,” chuckled Olaf.  
“Of course, and it helps with the stress now that Marshal Versace is breathing down on our necks,”

Brett grimaced as he remembered when the Marshal of the county paid a surprise visit. Both him and Sophie found their ears to be aching by the end of it.

“You and Sophie will be able to handle it,”  
“You put a lot of faith in us. How did you manage to protect this entire town when the people just push the badge on you still baffles me,”  
“It was either they put Graydon or me, and Graydon was... very grey,” Olaf shrugged with a smile.

Brett barely held back the snort.

“I've got to go, Olaf. Thanks for fixing up my violin,”  
“Anytime, Brett. Say hi to Sophie for me,”

He waved goodbye and exited the store. Brett did his usual rounds, patrolling the streets, keeping his ears and eyes open for any problems, greeting the folks with a small smile or a tip of his hat. It was hard work but necessary. By the time he reached the sheriff office, the sun was already setting and the noises in the saloons were getting louder.

Sophie was outside, handing a piece of paper to a little kid along with a few coins. The tin star pinned on her breast glinted beneath the warm glow of the lights. 

“Brett! I see you collected your violin,”  
“Yup, Olaf's magical hands fixed them. At least I won't have to take a chunk out of my paycheck,” he lifted the said case.

They entered the building. The cells were mostly empty save for the one in the corner. The sturdy man jolted from the cot and clambered over to the bars.

“Hey Sheriff?” he began sheepishly. “I don't suppose you could let me out now?”  
“I already said I will let you out tomorrow, Jonas,” Sophie rolled her eyes as she sat by the desk.  
“But I paid the fine. And I promise I won't pick a fight. Promise!”  
“No,”

Jonas whined and looked at Brett with hopeful eyes.

“Come on Deputy Yang,”  
“You punched me in the jaw when I brought you out from the bar,” he reminded.  
“I-I was drunk! I promise I won't drink anymore,”  
“And you did keep us all night,” Sophie grumbled.  
“That, I was being a lovely nightingale for our lovely sheriffs,” he preened.  
“A drunken rooster more like,” she snorted.

The man let out a groan and pressed his head on the bars. Brett sighed as he placed his violin on his desk. 

“How about this? If you remain quiet for the next few hours, I'll let you out at midnight,”  
“If Sheriff Druml doesn't mind,”  
“It is technically the next day,” she shrugged.  
“Deal it is then! I'll be as quiet as a mouse, sir yes sir!” he grinned.

Jonas tottered away from the bars and sat quietly on the bed. The corner of Brett's mouth quirked up. He turned to Sophie, ready to give his report when he noticed the mountainous pile of paper on her desk.

“Sophie, what are all of these...” he gestured helplessly.  
“Oh, this...is Marshal Versace's gift,” she smiled tiredly as she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “Don't worry too much about it, Brett. There's a good reason he sent them,”  
“Is it about that last week attempted robbery?”

Brett's hand made its way to the stock of his shotgun. Sure, he had fired it many times, injured a several and probably killed a few more, but that didn't mean he wanted to keep doing it. At the same time, if it meant he could protect the town, he will use it. 

“Partially, but mostly its because our town is a booming economy which means a lot of cash which also means becoming a target for bandits and many others. That bank we also built not too long ago isn't helping,” Sophie scribbled down on the paper.  
“Well, it was also his idea to build it, so can't he give us a hand? Maybe send a few more armed men,”

Sophie just held her hands in the air in a sign of defeat.

“Wish it was that easy Brett,” she sighed. “Maybe I should have asked for a few more deputies,”  
“We could recruit Ray,” he suggested.  
“Do you remember what happened when he was given a gun?”

Brett winced at the flash of memory. Ray was excellent in business and a wonderful mixologist, but when he was holding a gun... things just don't work well. 

“Ah... we do we can do Sophie and that is to keep this town safe,”

Sophie chuckled and smiled. Brett felt better, just a little bit. 

The streets were empty. The joyous laughter of the night had dissipated for the welcoming dark hours of midnight, only the dim flickering lamps burnt through the darkness. 

Eddy kept close to the building, avoiding the windows at all cost. It was much bigger than he expected but now that most of the townfolks were asleep, he could wander around as he liked.

Much to his dismay, he found the sheriff's office first; a towering wooden building that glowered over the streets with the big 'SHERIFF' spelt on it. A small shiver went down his spine. He had been caught and escaped many times, but rarely unscathed and if anything, he would like to avoid stitching himself up again. Eddy made sure that was a good distance between the ugly building.

It took a little while longer than he liked but he found it. A large building nestled amongst the others with the word 'bank' written in large capital letters. A faint orange glow flickered through the window. Eddy sighed and dug into his coat for his mask. He took his guns out, checking the bullets for a final time, before slamming the door open. 

The banker's eyes popped wide open, his hands immediately in the surrender as his mouth gaped open and close like a fish. 

“Shout and I'll shoot,”

It was enough for the banker to snap his mouth shut. Eddy's eyes flickered across the room and found the large metal safe, right behind the banker.

“Open it,” he flicked his gun at the safe.

The banker swallowed, a trickle sweat beaded down his forehead. Eddy reached in his coat and took out a brown stick with a little fuse sticking out of it.

“Or we could do it my way,”

The banker slowly turned and Eddy kept the gun on him. His heart was beating like a war drum, his fingers ready to squeeze the trigger at the slightest sign of defiance. He heard a click and the safe groaned open. The banker took out a large sum of money and pushed it through the grate. Tucking one of his gun and the dynamite back into his coat, Eddy reached out to sweep the money into his bag.

A hand shot out, grabbing his hand and twisted it through the grate.

“Help!”

There was a loud bang.


	2. Hunt On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Marshal Versace is a bitch and Brett begins his first hunt

Brett took off his spectacles to rub his eyes. He swore when he closed his eyes, he could see the scribbling of his reports. The deputy leaned against his chair, feeling the muscles in his hands cried out in relief.

“At this rate, I won't be able to play the violin again,” he moaned.  
“I don't think I can play the piano either,”

There was a loud crack as Sophie straightened her back. Her eyes were drooping shut but the sheer will she had prevented them from closing. For the past hours, they have been trying to make a dent into the pile of paperwork that Marshal Versace decided to dump on their desk.

Brett slumped onto the nice pillow of paperwork, his eyes squinting at the clock to make out the hands pointing sharply at twelve. Have they been working on the paperwork for that long? Wasn't he suppose to...

He turned to see Jonas pressed against the bar, looking like a sad dog.

“Oh crap! Sorry Jonas,” he took the key hanging on his belt. 

Jonas nodded, standing back as the cell swung open. 

“Thanks, Deputy. I promise I won't drink anymore,” he grinned.  
“Just don't punch any-”

There was a faint bark of the gun. The two of them snapped their head of the sound, Jonas dove back into the safety of the cell. Brett grabbed his shotgun and ran out towards the sound. The townsfolk were already awake, some of the men were wielding their guns. 

“Sounds like it was coming from the bank,” Brett scanned around the town.  
“And it was one shot. We better hurry,”

The bank wasn't too far from the sheriff's office but still too far for their liking. A figure in black ran towards them, a few coins dropping out from a bag. Brett aimed his shotgun and it barked, spitting out hot lead but the figure scrambled towards the narrow streets.

He ignored Sophie's order and gave chase. The figure twisted down to the left, disappearing from his line of sight but Brett knew Wester like the back of his hand. He took a sharp right turn and leapt out into the open. 

Brett aimed down his shotgun down and waited. 

And waited.

Then, he saw a figure, far too big to be the one he was chasing. It grew bigger and bigger as Brett slowly made it out as a rider. 

A flash of light, metal nipped his cheek and the crack of a gun echoed in his ears.

Brett flinched, almost dropping his shotgun as his hand flew to his cheek. A few more bullets rang out and he dove aside for cover. The horse galloped at a furious pace past him. Brett fumbled out his handgun and fired.

There was a strangled cry but the bandit sped on. He fired another shot, and another until all six bullets were gone. By then, the bandit was too far away, disappearing from his sight.

Aristides galloped through the night as Eddy clung onto the reins. Just a bit more and he would be out of reach. His pack mule was a welcoming sight, tied to the small tree nearby. He slowed Aristides, almost tumbling off when a sharp pain shot up in his shoulder.

Carefully, he pried his coat aside and grimaced at the sight.

It was a clean shot, but the blood was spewing out along with a few bits of fabric stuck around it. Eddy sighed as he rummaged the saddlebags from his mule. It took a while for him to clean up, wincing when he touched too close to the hole in his shoulder. 

He reached out for a wooden case, tucked safely with the other bags. Inside was a dark wooden instrument, spruce and ebony, varnished to a deep red-brown, his beloved violin. Even in his travels, he kept it safe and close. 

Eddy carefully unravelled one of the strings, cringing and screaming apologies. He found the needle he kept along with a few bandages he would always have and began to stitch, gritting his teeth when the needle pierced his skin.

When he pulled the final stitch in place, Eddy carefully moved his arm. The violin string held his skin together like the faithful companion it was. A wave of fatigue washed over him and he yawned. Aristides nudged and nuzzled his cheek, her brown liquid eyes bored into his.

“I guess we could rest,”

As if she understood, Aristides settled down next to him and Eddy leaned against her side. He pulled his hat over his eyes and allowed sleep tug him away from reality.

“Brett? Brett!”

The deputy looked up to see Olaf running, his silver shotgun glimmered in the darkness. The luthier's shoulder slumped as he hurried over to him.

“Are you alright? Did he get you?” his eyes scanned for any injury.  
“Just a scratch on the cheek. Anyone dead?” Brett sighed as he wiped away the blood.  
“The doctor is looking Cyrus; took a bad shot in the chest,”

Olaf let out a tired sigh and arched his back, the bones popping noisily. 

“Are you alright?”  
“Fine, fine. Just getting too old chasing bandits like Eddy Chen,”  
“Eddy Chen? The Eddy Chen?” Brett whipped his head.

The luthier nodded and revealed a pocket watch. Brett blinked at the faint inscription behind the watch.

_Edward. C_

“There is only one bandit who robs banks at night,” Olaf began.  
“Brett!”

They turned around to see Sophie, her long brown hair was ragged as her hands were stained red. Her eyes landed on the cut on his cheek.

“Do you need-”  
“I'm fine, Sophie. But Eddy, he got away,” he pressed his lips in a thin line, looking at the ground.  
“Doesn't matter. He's gone with all of the money. What matters is that-”  
“We get him,”

Brett looked up to see a cloaked rider, parting through the townsfolk like the Red Sea. He was short and muscular with square shoulders, eyes of smouldering ashes. His face was like leather, scarred and ragged from time and war. The cigarette hanging from his mouth glared its scarlet eye at anyone who dared stare at him. 

“Marshal Versace,” Sophie greeted.

The Marshal merely flicked his cigarette onto the ground and his beady eyes flickering between Sophie and Brett.

“That Eddy Chen is no ordinary bandit,” he began with a voice like granite.  
“He's just one person. We will be-”  
“I'm sure you will be ready, Deputy,” 

Brett bit back a scowl. Versace dismounted and slowly walked up to him. Then, he whipped out his gun and pressed it up against Brett's chin. Out of the corner of his eye, Sophie's hand immediately went to hers but Olaf grabbed her hand.

“All we need is just one man, to steal five thousand dollars, and it is enough for other bandits to come running down to Wester,”

There was a moment of silent, neither the deputy nor the marshal moved. Versace slowly holstered his gun back.

“People like Eddy are very patient. They can wait and watch for hours, just for the right time to strike. We can't let him off like this,”  
“If you just want me round up a posse, just say so,” Sophie rolled her eyes.  
“That was what got him on the run,”

Versace let out a heavy sigh and lit another cigarette. 

“He may look stupid, but he isn't stupid. He is always alert for people and I sent out a posse once, resulted with them getting caught in a flood and lost him,”  
“Then, maybe one man can do it,” Brett huffed.

The marshal turned to him, staring at him with those beady eyes. With a sudden surge of confidence, Brett stepped a little bit closer to Versace.

“I'll go,”  
“Brett...” Sophie warned.  
“Well, since you volunteered Deputy Yang...”

He blew out a thin wisp of smoke as he mounted his horse.

“If you bring back Eddy Chen, I'll grant anything that you want,”  
“Anything?”  
“Anything,”  
“Deal,”

Marshal Versace nodded firmly. He clicked his tongue and his horse snorted viciously before taking off to the desert plains, no doubt to patrol the outer regions of Wester. Brett closed his eyes and let out a long haggard sigh. He looked at the tracks of hooves left behind by the bandit and headed towards the stable.

He checked his saddlebags one more time before grabbing hold Eclipse's reins. The buckskin nickered softly, his ears twitching curiously. Brett smiled and patted his neck. 

“Brett!”

Sophie trotted up next to him on her pale mare. She too had her saddlebags all packed up.

“Sophie, what are you-”  
“I'm going and you're staying,” she stated.  
“Sophie...”  
“It's my duty to-”  
“Protect Wester,”  
“By hunting down-”  
“By staying here,”

The sheriff opened her mouth but Brett cut her off.

“Someone needs to protect Wester and you're the only one that can protect it. The reason Wester has been safe this entire time is because of you Sophie,” he began.  
“Not this time,”  
“Because we did not expect him to come here,”

Sophie chewed on her lips. Brett placed his arm on her shoulder.

“I'm going to bring Eddy back here and throw him in a cell where he belongs,”  
“I'm sure you will, Brett. I just... don't like it that you will be going off on your own,” she sighed.

Brett gripped tighter on his reins. He gently led Eclipse closer to Sophie's horse, Eclipse gently butting heads with the pale mare. He then pulled Sophie into a hug.

“I'll be fine, you're the one who taught me to shoot a gun remember?”  
“Yes, yes I did. And you almost shot Ray. I don't think he still has forgiven you,”  
“Definitely not,” he grinned. 

They both shared a small laugh. Sophie slowly pulled back, her eyes softened.

“Just stay safe, Brett and come back even if you didn't get him,”  
“I will,”

Brett reluctantly parted. He looked ahead. A vast empty space of endless dirt and dust loomed ahead. Yet at night, it was a beautiful dark hue, almost like the sea. He looked back at Wester and Sophie one more time, before galloping off into the desert plains.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As far as I read, most bank robberies in the West are done in broad daylight because banks would leave their safes open to show possible customers that people keep their valuables with them. This made it easy for the robbers to hold them at gunpoint and grab whatever is in the safe. Also, it was easier to rob a bank than robbing a single person as the latter would have kept guns on themselves.
> 
> Also, most bandits would aim for railways and trains rather than banks as they hold more money but at some point, the authorities began to take security more seriously and started to have armed guns on trains.


	3. Target in sight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where two lines meet

The smell of rot burnt through his nose. Eddy gasped and blinked the sleep out of his eyes. He looked down and saw a little black snake nestled on his lap, its tongue flickering out angrily at him.

“What was that for Editor-San?” he growled.

If the snake had arms, it would be waving its arms around angrily as it bobbed its head this way and that. Eddy sighed and picked up the snake, face to face. 

“Look, it's not as bad as it seems and I can still walk and shoot with my arm. We just need to make sure it heals properly and I'll be fine,”

Editor-San hissed before slithering up around his neck and squeezed a little bit. Eddy smiled and gave the little snake a tiny pat on the head. Cracking his back, he gently nudged Aristides.

The horse snorted, shaking the sleep out of her. Eddy patted her muzzle as they both lazily got up. The morning was bright and clear, not a glaring light that burns through the eyes, but a gentle ray that warms the core. Eddy quickly gathered his things, untied his pack mule and mounted on Aristides.

He reached for his Albert chain, fingers searching for the little knob. He found nothing. Eddy frowned, his hand delved into the pocket. There was still nothing. He ruffled his coat.

Still nothing.

Eddy bounded out of the saddle and scrambled around the site. His heart thudded heavily in his chest as he kicked the dust around, hoping to find the shiny golden pocket watch.

But with no such luck.

He looked back at where he came from, his mind racing with multiple possibilities. It could have dropped while he was galloping away with all the money. Or... it could have fallen off when he got shot... and the deputy or the sheriff now has it.

“Fuck!”

Eddy grabbed his hat, ready to fling it down when he heard a loud hiss of fright. A blur of black zipped up his arm and wrapped tightly around his neck causing him to freeze mid-throw. Editor-San must have slithered up onto his hat; no doubt the snake would like a bit of sunlight. 

“Sorry, Editor-San,” 

The snake flickered out its tongue, tickling his chin before uncurling around his neck and slithering down his arm towards the hat. Eddy couldn't help but smile as he watched the little snake curled happily around like a hatband. He stroked the sleek cool body idly.

He could take the risk and try to get his pocket watch back, but the town was probably on high alert. However, the sheriff would probably keep the watch since it was proof, enough to warrant jailing or a hanging.

The latter made him shiver.

With a heavy sigh, Eddy carefully placed the hat back on his head, a pleased hiss from Editor-San. He will wait until the heat dies down and then he will head back to get back to the town for the pocket watch. Even if it means killing the sheriff and the deputy.

For now, he will head to the badlands and wait.

It was not like Brett has never been outside of Wester but he didn't remember being scorched. 

The sun beat down on him, its malevolent eye remained unblinking while the sky hid all the clouds; not a single wisp took pity on the poor deputy and his horse.

Brett took another sip from his canteen, relishing the cool freshwater soothing his parched throat. He cupped his hand poured out some water. Eclipse drank from his hand gratefully, his muzzle tickling him. 

“Why does it have to be this hot of all the days?” he cried.

Eclipse snorted in agreement, licking the last droplets of water from his hand. Brett slumped under the shade of a small palm frond. Eclipse trotted and chewed at a small tuff of grass, tugging it out from the sand. At least it wasn't completely barren as he first thought. 

Tough green foliage sprouted defiantly where the sand and dust had claimed. The yucca and cacti stood proudly with their spiky leaves. Did everything have to be so spiky looking? Brett guessed that is the beauty of the desert.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out the watch. At first glance it was rather old looking; scratches across the lid along and the sides were worn down from constant rubbing, almost erasing the name. Upon closer inspection, Brett could tell that it was well-loved.

Even the years of usage, the golden cover glimmered brightly. A strange emblem of two flags surrounded by an olive wreathe was carved. When he opened it, he first saw a picture. Though it was worn and beaten down, he could clearly see a family of four.

Edward Chen was obviously the young boy standing next to the older man. His lips in a thin straight line that didn't suit him. In front of the two males were, Brett guessed, his sister and mother. Beneath the photo was neat handwriting.

_To my brother_  
_From your sister_   
_Belle_

“What drove you to banditry?” he wondered out loud.

He has a family and a roof over his head. Perhaps there was a more to the picture. Maybe his family was too uptight; his mother did look like she could send even the worst bandits running with just a glare. Then, it still wouldn't explain why he shot Cyrus. 

In fact, what did he know about him? Apart from robbing banks at night, he had shot a few good lawmen, including Versace himself, but now that he thought about it, no one was actually killed except the one time he was challenged to a duel and won. It's like he wouldn't murder anyone without reason.

“Why am I thinking about you now!?” he grumbled in frustration.

Brett quickly stuffed the pocket watch into his pocket. He shaded his eyes and squinted ahead. Hills of red striped with brown along with jagged stones loomed at the horizon. Not a hint green could be seen. 

If the badlands was where Edward is heading, Brett will go there in a heartbeat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While most garter snakes are fairly harmless, there are cases where garter snake venom or saliva have caused an allergic reaction. Please do not pick up garter snakes unless you're a professional who knows what they're doing or have someone supervise you while handling snakes.
> 
> Also, their musk reeks of death.


End file.
